


Shut Me Up (Honey Come Put Your Lips On Mine)

by puckinghell



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 07:08:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20990843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puckinghell/pseuds/puckinghell
Summary: Tyson has never been particularly good at stopping the word vomit from leaving his mouth, even when he really needs to.Alternatively, the 3 times Tyson talks too much, and the 1 time JT shuts him up.





	Shut Me Up (Honey Come Put Your Lips On Mine)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from COIN's "Talk Too Much".

When Tyson was little, his mom used to tell him that finding a balance between speaking his mind and knowing when to not say anything, would be the key to succes in life.

It’s fairly disappointing, then, that Tyson still has absolutely no clue how to master that second part.

It’s not like he _likes _saying everything that’s on his mind all the time. It’s just that he doesn’t know how to stop. So far, it’s never _really _gotten him in trouble, but that’s also partly because the few times it almost did, one of his teammates had his back. Like that time he told that guy at the bar that he looked a little like Gollum, and Z had put his massive body in front of Tyson to stop the guy from punching his lights out.

Maybe if Tyson had been knocked unconcious that night, he would’ve learned something, and he wouldn’t be in this mess right now.

1.

The first time Tyson runs his mouth is when he’s drunk. To be fair, that’s when he usually says stupid shit – or, even more stupid than usual – so it’s not like anyone is really surprised.

“So I know I’m colorblind,” he starts off his rambling, “but JT has like, really nice eyes, you know?”

“I don’t get how that first sentence has anything to do with the second one, but, sure, buddy,” says Nate, because Nate has had so much experience with Tyson Barrie’s embarrassing moments, that he barely even notices when Tyson does something stupid himself.

“You had enough to drink, Josty?” says Gabe, because Gabe is both an awesome guy, a great captain, and an incredible asshole.

“How much I’ve had to drink has absolutely no correspondence with how pretty JT’s eyes are.”

At that, EJ raises an eyebrow, because EJ is even worse than Gabe. “Correspondence? Jesus, Josty, who knew you’d turn into Shakespeare when you’ve had a few.”

“Shut up,” Tyson glares.

He then turns his attention back to JT, because JT, even when he’s not aware of Tyson’s presence, is a lot better company than the rest of his team.

JT is standing at the bar to get another beer. Tyson knows this, because just a few minutes before, JT had bumped his knee into Tyson’s, and said: “I’m going to get another beer. What do you want?”

“Anything but beer,” Tyson had grumbled, scrunching his nose to show JT that his choice in drink is abysmal.

JT had rolled his eyes, and that’s when Tyson had noticed how pretty his eyes are.

Now, however, JT is standing at the bar, with his back to Tyson, so he can’t really notice anything about JT’s face. He can, however, notice other things.

“Does my butt look anything like that?” he asks nobody in particular, and even he himself can tell that his words are kinda slurring.

“Gaaabe,” EJ whines, “you need to control your rookie!”

Gabe shrugs. “He’s not a rookie anymore, and he was never really my rookie. I got Cale.”

“Hey!” Nate protests, “I thought I got Cale!”

“No, you get Timmins.” Gabe’s voice does not allow any disagreement.

“And G’s my rookie,” EJ hums contently, and he shoots a fond look at G, who’s currently chatting up a girl that’s way too hot for him.

“To answer your question, no, your butt does not look like that.” Nate takes another sip of his drink, and Tyson is grateful that not everyone is ignoring him.

“It’s a good butt,” he slurs, and then he lets his head fall onto the table, groaning into his arms.

“Ah, cute,” says Gabe, “young love.” And he sounds more like a dad than he should, considering his kid hasn’t even been born yet.

“snotlove,” Tyson mumbles, but everyone ignores him again.

It’s _not _love. Tyson is just… appreciative, when he recognizes that nature did a good one. And with JT, nature definitely did a good one.

There’s a clonk on the table next to his head, and then JT’s voice, gruff: “What happened to him?”

“He was just admiring your ass,” says EJ, because he’s not only an asshole, but also a massive traitor. Next game, Tyson is going to jam his stick into EJ’s kidney.

“Uhm,” says JT, and Tyson just groans again.

He knows that, at the very least, Gabe, Nate and EJ now know about his little… appreciation, for JT. And he knows he’s probably never gonna hear the end of it.

Whatever. It’s just. A bro can admire a bro for having a good ass. And nice eyes. It doesn’t mean shit, and...

Tyson should’ve just shut up.

2.

It probably does mean something when he tells his sister.

He doesn’t mean to tell his sister. It’s just, he’s never been very good at keeping secrets from her. It also doesn’t help that Kacey is a nosy motherfucker.

“Oh come on,” she says. “There’s no way you’re not at least wheeling someone.”

“Wheeling is not a word you should be using,” Tyson chides her, because he hates when his sister sounds like his teammates.

Kacey sounds far away through the phone, and Tyson is hit with a wave of homesickness. He’s gotten better, at being away from home, and it helped to create a home for himself here in Denver, but he misses Kacey and his mom, and sometimes it feels like talking through the phone is all he’s ever going to get from them.

“Fine,” says Kacey, and Tyson can literally hear her eye roll all the way in fucking Canada. “Dating, then. Hooking up with. Planning to marry, knowing you. There’s no way you don’t have your eyes on someone, Tys. You always have your eyes on someone.”

“That’s a lie,” Tyson protests, although he knows she’s probably right. He is very… prone, to crushes. Used to have a different crush every week, back in high school. But it is different now. He hasn’t had a crush in like, two years. Maybe even longer. Ever since he started hanging out with JT more.

“Liar,” Kacey hums in his ear. He can hear something crackling, and he frowns.

“Are you snacking?” When there’s no answer, he takes that as a yes. “Mom is gonna have dinner ready in like, an hour. She’s gonna be pissed if you’re not hungry.”

“And she’s also gonna be pissed when I tell her that you’ve had a longterm boyfriend that you haven’t introduced to her,” Kacey answers smoothly, voice silk like honey.

Tyson sometimes forgets that his sister is an actual demon child.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” he hisses. In that moment, he hears the front door slam. “Oh, I should go. JT is home.”

“So?” Kacey asks, indignant. “If I had a roommate, I wouldn’t ditch you just because she came home.”

“Yeah, but, he’s had a rough week,” Tyson says, as if that explains everything, because, well, to him it does.

“Why?” Kacey presses, because, again, she’s a nosy motherfucker. Whatever.

“It’s just, he’s not been scoring.” Tyson leans back in the pillows. He hears the fridge slam, and then the drawer where they keep the cutlery open. JT’s footsteps are heavy against the hardwood floor. When the floor creaks, that means he’s near the watercooker, and Tyson knows he’s making tea, despite always having made fun of Kerf’s tea drinking habits.

It hits him, the wave of fondness for his last remaining roommate. They both miss Kerf, but, it’s not been as empty as Tyson had been fearing. Him and JT, they work well together. Just the two of them.

“I’m trying to make him feel better, you know?” he tells his sister, while absentmindely staring at the door of his bedroom, as if JT could walk in at any moment.

He won’t. He never has.

“Cause, it’s better for the team. And for me, you know? I don’t like having a sulky roommate. And like. It’s not his fault, that we’re losing. He’s not the only one not producing. We just need some time to get into the swing of things again.”

“Oh my God,” says Kacey, her voice too loud. “You like him!”

Tyson frowns. “Of course I like him, he’s my best friend here in Denver.”

“No.” Kacey drags out the o, making it last a full two seconds. “You _like _him like him. You have a crush on JT Compher, that’s why you’re not crushing on anyone else!”

Tyson can feel his cheeks heat up. Fuck, he should’ve kept his mouth shut.

“I do not,” he squeaks, but he doesn’t even really believe himself, and Kacey has always been able to look straight through him.

Tyson wonders if he’ll ever learn to shut up.

3.

It’s weird, when the Leafs come to town for the first time. Tyson knew it was gonna be weird, but he didn’t expect it to hit him as hard as it does, to see Kerf and Barrie in a Leafs uniform.

“Miss me?” Kerf grins at him as he skates by in warm up, and then he jams his stick between Tyson’s legs and sends him flying across the ice.

“Asshole,” Tyson grumbles, but he still ruffles Kerf’s hair as Kerf skates away, laughing.

“You okay?” It’s JT, coming to check up on him. Of course it is. It’s not like any of his other teammates would bother. Gabe, maybe, if he wasn’t so busy staring at the other Tyson.

“Fine,” Tyson huffs. “Kerf is just being an asshole.”

“I don’t mean that.” JT is staring at him with eyes that speak volumes. It’s annoying, how well his best friend knows him.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Tyson says, giving JT a soft smile. “It’s weird. But, I’ll be good.”

He means it, too, and when they beat the Leafs 5-4, he’s as happy as he always is with a win.

He’s maybe a little worried, when Barrie yells at Gabe that their get together is canceled, but then he watches as Kerf elbows Barbs in the ribs and laughs hysterically when he doubles over to catch his breath, and he thinks they’ll be fine.

It’s even better, though, when they’re in Nate’s kitchen, trying to find some good drinks between all the disgusting beers in Nate’s fridge.

“Fuck, we should’ve done this at Landy’s house,” Kerf says, scrunching his nose. “Landy has good wine.”

“Landy also has a pregnant wife,” Tyson tells him somberly. “I think we’re not partying at Landy’s house ever again.”

“Luckily Mikko got his shiny new contract,” Kerf chuckles. “Maybe now he can afford an apartment with enough space for his teammates.”

Tyson is all for chirping Mikko about being super rich now; after all, chirping any of his teammates for literally anything, is his favorite pass time. But just as he opens his mouth, JT walks into the kitchen.

His eyes are shiny and he’s smiling, and Tyson feels his stomach drop.

“Kerfy, bro, we missed you!” JT exclaims, way more loudly than he usually is.

Oh, Tyson thinks. He’s tipsy.

“No you didn’t,” Kerf grins. “But you drank all my tea.”

JT looks at Tyson as if Tyson betrayed his family. “You told him?”

“Well, yeah,” Tyson shrugs. “It’s his tea.”

“But we’re _roommates_,” JT brings out, clutching his hand to his heart as if he’s been shot. “You’re meant to protect my secrets, first and foremost. I can’t believe you told him.”

“Sorry,” says Tyson, and he feels strangely small, like he’s actually been chewed out, instead of dramatically yelled at by a drunk roommate.

“Is okay Tys.” Suddenly, JT is standing right there, and his arms are coming up to wind around Tyson’s back. He kinda slumps, more than steps, into Tyson’s space, and then his chin is nestled in Tyson’s neck. His breath is warm and smells a lot like beer.

It lasts about 10 seconds, before JT lets go of Tyson and stumbles out of the kitchen without getting what he came in there for.

“Oh,” says Kerf knowingly, and the look on his face is difficult to read, but Tyson knows he knows.

“We’re just friends,” he starts talking, despite knowing it would probably be better if he shut up. “We grew closer when you left, just because, we only have each other now, you know? In the house I mean. Not out of the house. Out of the house we have the whole team. Except Barrie, because he’s with you, and except Gabe, because he’s gonna be a dad, and obviously we’ve got Naz now, and Burky, but, like, in the house, it’s just me and him.”

“Hmm,” Kerf hums, and that just makes Tyson more nervous, and therefor, more talkative.

“But it’s not, like… I don’t know what EJ told you…” – because if someone was to tell on him, it would definitely be EJ – “but it’s not like _that_. Like, even if… If I wanted that, there’s no way he’d… you know?”

“No,” says Kerf, with a shrug of his shoulders. “But just so you know, if you did want that, I think he might too.”

And then Kerf leaves the kitchen, and Tyson wishes he knew how to shut up.

+1.

Tyson knows as soon as JT hits the ice that it’s not good. He nearly jumps out of his skin with anger, and if it wasn’t for Gabe’s firm hand on his shoulder, he might’ve jumped out of the bench to punch whoever it was that hit JT in the face.

Luckily, Z seems to have the same idea.

“Motherfucker,” Tyson breathes, and his entire heart is clenched with worry when JT gets yanked by the spotter immediately.

He’s shaking. He can feel it, all the way from his fingers right up until his toes. Every part of him seems to be fizzling, burning out of his skin, shaking with adrenaline.

“Dude,” says Gabe, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Tyson chokes out, even though his tone of voice very clearly says no.

Gabe’s voice is gentle when he speaks. “Josty. He’s going to be okay.”

“You don’t know that,” Tyson bites, and he doesn’t mean to snap at his captain, but Gabe does finally let go of his shoulder, and Bednar sends Tyson back onto the ice.

It’s not until the final buzzer, and they’re all in line to pat Grubi on the head, and thank him for saving their asses in that third period, that Gabe skates up to him again.

Tyson really isn’t wanting a little chit chat with his captain right now. He wants to get through this so he can rush to the locker room and find out if JT’s head is still attached to his body.

“Josty.” When he doesn’t respond, Gabe bumps against his shoulder. “Tys.” He sounds firm. “You have to talk to him, dude.”

“They’ll tell you before they’ll tell me,” Tyson grumbles. “You’re the captain.”

“No, not about his injury,” says Gabe, and God forbid Tyson’s blood runs cold at the word ‘injury’. “About how you feel about him.”

Tyson nearly chokes on his mouthguard.

“No way,” he blurts out, before he thinks that maybe it would’ve been better to play dumb, and ask what feelings.

“Come on, Tys,” Gabe presses. “You know you. You’re never gonna be able to keep it hidden forever. Might as well fess up now.”

Tyson wants to tell Gabe that so far, he’s been doing pretty well on keeping it hidden. At least, from JT, if from no one else. But then Gabe speaks again, and this time, actual important information comes out of his mouth.

“He’s not here, by the way. One of the medical staff drove him home. He passed protocol, but, he has a hell of a headache.”

And if that’s the fastest Tyson has ever driven to get home, that’s between him and the roads.

When he enters the apartment, it’s quiet and dark. He thinks that maybe JT is already asleep, and when he finds the living room empty, he knows he should probably just go to his room.

But, something is still nagging inside of him. Something that’s not going to go away until he actually sees that JT is doing alright. Or at least, alive. He’ll take alive, at this point.

So he does what he definitely shouldn’t be doing, and walks up to JT’s bedroom door. He hesitates, for what feels like an eternity, but he knows that he won’t be able to sleep without seeing him, so, he knocks.

Tyson’s heart is beating in his throat, for the few seconds it takes before something stumbles inside JT’s bedroom.

The door opens, and there he is. Looking groggy, and with a black eye, but alive.

“Tys?” he asks, confused. “Isn’t it way too early for you to be home?”

“Uhm…” _Not if I skipped showering and drove about a million miles per hour_. But for once, Tyson doesn’t speak his mind. Instead, he looks JT over. He’s wearing sweatpants and a shirt and he looks like he’s got all his limbs.

“Are you okay?”

He’s a little breathless, as he asks, and he wishes he had more self control, because suddenly he sees his own hand reaching for JT. Just in time, before he actually touches him, he takes it out of the air, slapping it against his own thigh.

“My head hurts,” says JT. “But, they said to take some Advil and go to sleep. Should be better tomorrow.”

“But you didn’t take Advil,” Tyson frowns, because he knows JT, and JT has the decency to look sheepishly embarrassed.

“I like to save that for when it really hurts.”

“You almost got decapitated against the boards. I think that’s enough for an Advil,” Tyson chirps, but he feels a million pounds lighter now that he knows JT is gonna be okay.

JT frowns at him, now.

“Did you shower?”

And it’s Tyson’s turn to be embarrassed.

JT’s eyes widen with realization. “You didn’t shower because you wanted to come check on me.”

And that, apparently, is the cue for Tyson to lose his mind.

“I was just, worried, you know? Like, any good bro, if any of my teammates, I mean, our teammates - they’re your teammates too - if any of them got hurt, I would be worried. And you can say that I probably wouldn’t rush to their homes to see if they were still alive, and you would probably be right to say that, but also, I don’t live with them, and they’re not my best friend, and I know that if I was seriously injured, you would absolutely slaughter whoever did that to me. And I can’t do that for you, because I’m a lot smaller than most guys in the NHL, and if I died trying to stick up for you, then you’d have to revenge my death, but, obviously, you’d be hurt, in this scenario, and not just this scenario, you are hurt in real life too, and…”

“Tys,” JT says suddenly, interrupting him. “Has anyone ever told you you talk too much?”

Tyson is definitely blushing all the way to the tips of his ears, now.

“Yeah, right, sorry, I… I’ll leave you alone.”

He turns around, and he’s really planning to leave JT to rest, but then JT speaks, and he halts.

“Thank you.”

He turns around. “For what? For not showering?”

JT laughs, then winces, as the laugh hurts his head. “No, for checking up on me. And for wanting to defend my honor, or, revenge my death, or whatever the fuck you just said.”

“Riiiight,” Tyson brings out. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

JT is still chuckling. “You say a lot of things.”

“I guess nobody has ever told me to shut up.” That’s definitely a lie. At least every guy on the team has at one point told Tyson to shut up, and so have the guys from junior, and his mom and his sister, and probably everyone that he’s ever met.

Except JT.

JT has never told Tyson to shut up and if he did, and he really meant it, Tyson might actually listen. He thinks JT is the only one that could shut him up, if he wanted to.

JT has never seemed to want to.

“Tys?” JT asks, and he seems uncomfortable, like he’s not sure whether he should still be talking to Tyson.

Tyson, because he has no self restraint, would do anything for JT to keep talking, so he takes a step closer.

“Yeah?”

“When you said… a good bro… Did you mean… Are we just… Is that all we are?”

Tyson blinks. He’s not sure if maybe it was actually _him _that got hit, and now he’s hallucinating.

“Are you asking if we’re more than bros?” he repeats dumbly, and JT nods. His face is about the same color as his hair, or at least that’s the color Tyson imagines his hair to look. They’re certainly the same shade right now.

Suddenly, Tyson thinks of Gabe.

“Oh my God,” he exclaims, “Gabe told you, didn’t he? That fucker! He promised me… Well, technically he didn’t promise me anything, but I was drunk when I confessed that, and I thought as the captain surely he had some kinda code, you know, like medical people, or therapists. I didn’t think he would ever… Or was it not Gabe? Was it Kerf? Did Kerfy tell you? Granted, I wasn’t drunk when I told Kerf, but I thought he would understand that it was implicated that he wasn’t supposed to tell you that… I mean, he’s gone to Harvard for fuck’s sake, surely he knows that when a bro tells you about a crush you don’t then go to the crush, and tell him that you have a crush…”

Tyson’s mind is still going a hundred miles an hour, trying to think of all the people he accidentally told about his crush on JT, and which ones could possibly have told on him – Kacey is out, but everyone else is still guilty before proven innocent, or whatever the saying is – when JT smiles, and the words falter on Tyson’s lips.

Then JT takes a step forward and crashes his mouth against Tyson’s.

No, _literally _crashes; Tyson is knocked back with the sheer force of it, and he’s pretty sure he hears teeth clicking together, although he doesn’t feel it. But then JT’s hands are grabbing Tyson’s arms and pulling him against him, and then the kiss softens, and suddenly Tyson becomes aware of how nice JT’s lips feel against his own.

For the first time since Tyson came in, he feels completely as peace.

When JT pulls back, he’s flushed, but still smiling, and Tyson can’t help but smile back.

“Tys,” JT hums, his breath fanning warmth against Tyson’s mouth, “has anyone ever told you you talk too much?”

“Maybe if you put your lips on mine again you can shut me up for a while,” Tyson blurts out, and JT laughs, but then he kisses Tyson again.

And Tyson, for all it’s worth, finally shuts up.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm @puckinghell on Tumblr if you wanna talk to me!


End file.
